


Never Again

by Avaya



Category: Batman: Arkham (Video Games), Batman: Arkham - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mental Instability, One-Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 22:17:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7775776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avaya/pseuds/Avaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The meeting between Arkham Knight and Batman takes a vastly different turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Again

**Author's Note:**

> In Arkham Knight, I felt like there wasn't enough interaction with Bruce Wayne and Jason Todd. So I decided to make one. 
> 
> Oh. I also changed a few things.  
> -The Batmobile can comfortably hold two grown men in the front seat.  
> -Scarecrow is not at the top of the shopping mall.  
> -Gordon was released and headed to his car, promising to relay Scarecrow’s position to Batman before the start of this one-shot.

Pieces of sentry drones littered the abandoned shopping mall. Unconscious militia men lied in various positions on the floor. Military-grade weapons were scattered aimlessly about. None of this registered with Batman who currently kneeled over the Arkham Knight’s body with a fist raised, poised to smash the glass that covered his facial plate.

“What are you waiting for, Bats?” The Joker hallucination slowly circled the two men, laughing maniacally while gesturing. “You know we want to! I would _love_ to have another go at him, especially after what he did to me in Arkham City. But he _shot_ you! Don’t you think he deserves at least a punch? And another? And another?!”

Batman did what he had done all night and simply ignored the Joker. Instead, he stared into the icy blue eyes of his former ward, a hint of apprehension in them. His closed fist slowly lowered and relaxed, his fingers tracing the edges of the Jason Todd’s helmet to press on the catch, granting him access to remove it. His other hand was on his wrist, enough pressure added to convey that Batman was ready for any move Jason wanted to undertake.

Unforgiving hatred met him as he tossed the helmet aside. As his gloved fingers went to ghost over the branded “J”, he viciously spat out, “Don’t touch me. You have _no_ right to touch me. Ever again.” Jason then moved his head to the side, purposely avoiding his eyes. He didn’t try to roll over and pin Batman down or even buck him off. He knew that his mentor would get the better of him and he’d be beneath him once more.

Funny. That’s the place that he’d always thought he would be. It was where had been as Robin…and as something more.

Batman’s fingers curled into his palm. He had needed to touch Jason. He wondered if this was an effect of the fear toxin. If he was seeing Jason and not someone else before he performed the following action. 

Only briefly hesitating, he brought two fingers to press against the base of the helmet. Gears whirred and metal plates clicked as the steel cowl shifted. With one hand, he carefully took off the cowl, setting it beside Jason’s mask. What he was doing was a mistake, but he couldn't constrain himself. 

Jason’s breath hitched as his gaze returned to tortured eyes that were normally so cold. The rims brimmed with tears that threatened to be shed, so out of place in that normally stern face. He forced back some of his own as he began to tremble under the genuine visage of the Bruce Wayne. He didn’t want his former lover to see that he was _just_ as haunted and mentally scarred beyond repair. Bruce would try to convince him to do what would be morally right and Jason wouldn’t foolishly fall under that charming charismatic spell.

_He_ was the cause, the source of all of his suffering. _He_ was the reason why Jason had been locked under Arkham Asylum and tormented near the brink of death. Jason had to remember all of this. Or he’d start to feel the illusion of comfort and safety that Bruce tended to exude whenever Jason was near him.

Like now. Bruce’s hand trailed from his wrist to interlace their fingers. Jason had a minute opportunity when Bruce had eased his grip to throw a punch at his jaw, but he didn't take the bait. Instead, as he felt Bruce’s fingers clinch, he mimicked the action. It was reminiscent of fond memories he held of Bruce: when he told him that he would never let him go.

Averting Bruce’s eyes was a challenge. His chin was firmly grasped and his face hovered a few inches above his own. It enabled Jason to read everything that he was feeling:  anguish, sadness, shame….love? He gritted his teeth, nostrils flaring.

Their foreheads were now touching. Jason could hear Bruce’s hard breathing against him. His mouth parted, his mind wanting to scream that Bruce’s betrayal would never be forgiven, but all that emitted were choked gasps. They were muffled as Bruce cut him off with a kiss.

His eyes flared, a multitude of thoughts running through him. Biting the tongue that lovingly curled through his mouth would get him off. His own was definitely _not_ reacting to the persistent brushes against it within that confined space. Neither was his heart that raced at what Bruce wanted to make known: how _badly_ he had missed him.

If he subtly inched his twitching fingers downward, he could grab his knife or pistol—guess not since they were content to settle in and play with the older man’s hair.

That’s fine. It would keep Bruce from being observant to his knees drawing up. A quick knee-jab to his left side would have him keel over.  He just needed to restart their motor functions that seemed to just stop.

Miserably, he admitted the truth: he _wanted_ this. After the millions spent gathering men, weapons, machines, and training--all fueled with a supposedly irreparable hatred for Bruce Wayne--he didn't think their impasse would have ended with Jason willingly submitting to his enemy.

Disgusted with himself, Jason broke away from the kiss with a low moan through gritted teeth. A hand cupped his cock gingerly, moving along its hardening length. His shock abated as another emotion tried to break free, one that Jason had locked away and would not acknowledge. He refused to react to the soulful longing displayed on Bruce’s face, twisting his head to view the cold tile. Blinking back the wetness that threatened to fall, he collected himself. With extraordinary effort, he communicated simply.

“Stop.”

Immediately, he felt the burdensome presence lift from him. Self-loathing surged through him as he refused to peer up at Bruce.

Like always, Bruce had deconstructed his meek defenses. First, via destroying the majority of the incredible military might he had assembled using the old man’s money. Then he broke through his carefully crafted emotional shield through affectionate touches. Jason could feel himself inching towards another break in his mental stability. 

"I'm sorry." The voice was Batman but it sounded disturbed. "I have more self-discipline than to give into base desires. You happen to be the only one that destroys it."

Jason listened to the appealing words he had heard an abundant amount of times before. But there was something else within the statements. Bruce was reminding Jason of what they once had and what he would be very willing to give him again…if Jason so chose.

He reflected over what he had suffered for months under Joker’s sadistic claws. What assurances would he have that Bruce wouldn’t abandon him again? None whatsoever.

Ears pricked up at the sound of a low groan.

“Jason, we have to go.” Bruce’s metal cowl was back in place. In a very customary gesture unbefitting of the Dark Knight, he stretched his hand towards Jason.

Slowly sitting up, he derived a couple of schemes. He could remain where he was and permit his men to execute him for being ineffectual. That way, he would be free of the agonizing mental torment that plagued him while Bruce escaped to abandon him for a final time.

Near silent shuffles due to fabric rubbing against itself could be heard.

Perhaps his men would surround them both in time and fill them both up with enough lead that they’d sink when thrown in Gotham Bay. That was assuming there would be enough pieces of them left over. But Bruce wouldn’t be dead by his hand.

A loud clattering as multiple weapons teetering off of edges fell. Or it could be a man shakily rising who had dropped his gun.

Jason still had weapons attached to him and it’s not as if Bruce would notice when he raised his pistols. So if he wanted to—

“I’m not leaving without you.”

Bewilderment shone as he gaped at Bruce. His eyes fell to the awaiting hand before returning. The chains guarding his most dangerous sensations threatened to sever. He struggled to reinforce them, clenching his teeth due to the exertion.

“That means that I will willingly stay here with no regrets.”

“I’d get what I want. What I became the Knight for.” The huff that followed was filled with bitterness, hate, and a twinge of something that was best not examined closely.

“If that’s what you want.” Bruce expressed calmly as Jason raised a pistol at him.

Another loud groan before someone spoke, “What the hell happened?”

He walked forward, as smooth and easy as Jason remembered before allowing the nozzle of the gun to press against his side.

“But I know what I want. Do you, Jason?”

The gun wavered as tender fingers encircled his wrist. He braced his hands against his chest as he was pulled toward the caped crusader,  the older man's arms closing around his waist. Soft lips brushed against his as someone screamed ‘It’s the Bat!’

A baterang knocked him unconscious as they both headed to the roof.

* * *

The reticent trek to the Batmobile had been filled with Jason’s lips still tingling over the kiss. Uneasiness ran through him as they approached it, Jason waiting for Bruce to open the back compartment that housed the prisoners. He was under no illusion about what he expected Bruce to do, but he had dared to  _hope_ that Bruce wouldn't do it. He should have known that hope only led to crushing disappointment.

He didn’t let his surprise show as Bruce simply pressed a few buttons on his right forearm, causing the top to slide back. Jason stared at him suspiciously with arms crossed, Bruce peering at him over his shoulder. He was wary of any possible good fortune. 

“Why?”

Bruce scrutinized Jason before speaking. “The last thing you need is to be locked up again.”

Unwittingly, Jason let out a relieved sigh. He hadn’t been looking forward to heading to the Gotham City Police Department. His sanity was fragile as it was and being behind bars would not help it any. Still, he fidgeted, trying to find anything to focus on besides him. “Then where are we going?”

“Wayne Manor.”

Sharply he turned to him. “I don’t _need_ your help.”

“But I need yours, Jason.” Bruce retorted calmly.

He sneered, blood boiling. “You were the cause of all of this. If you _let_ me kill Joker when I saved you, he’d be dead. If you’d killed Joker the many times you found him, Oracle wouldn’t have suffered! Ivy would still be alive! So _of course_ you need my help to fix the shit  _you_ made!”

“You know that I couldn’t have done that, Jason.” Bruce’s timbre was more hard-set.

“ _I_ wouldn’t have suffered.” He yelled over him, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “But it’s because of _your_ fucking morality that I’m like this and that _everyone_ around you gets _fucked_!”

Joker approached Jason with arms spread wide. “ _That’s_ what I’ve been telling him! _Our_ game is _ours_. Not a Broken Robin or a repurposed Batgirl! But does he listen? _No_!”

Jason brought his hands to his face, fingertips digging at whatever point of contact that they made while he paced back and forth rapidly. Pain would drive away the horrid images trying to pierce his consciousness: the memories of Joker with a crowbar, the hot poker used to brand his face, the electric shock rod, the insane cackles….

It wasn’t enough. They were still getting through. He could still hear the tormenting voice. He began to claw at his face, wanting to make it bleed.  Anything to keep the misery away. “If you would have left me alone, I wouldn’t have trained to be your _fucking Robin_.” He sobbed wretchedly. “I’d probably be dead or a thief right now, but it’d be better than living like this. A shell of a man, nothing like I used to be. Weak. So fucking _weak_!”

Joker manifested on top of the Batmobile, gleefully watching Jason breakdown while swinging his legs. “You know, I usually don’t get a chance to look back at my old work. Because they’re dead. But I could get used to this, Batsy. You, me, and little Robin: the three insane amigos. You should tell him about me. Make him _worse._ Oh wait! Let  _me_ tell him as _you_. He'll become insane for sure!”

“And what do I find when I’m eventually let go?” Jason shrieked, tears beginning to stream down his face. “ _You_ moved on and replaced me, not only as Robin but as the one you fuck. A constant revolving door of fucking rich whores who would throw themselves at your feet. How long did you look for me, huh? You were balls-deep in each of them, so it wasn’t long!”

Bruce’s feet were moving before he registered his actions.  Approaching Jason, he roughly caught his wrists and ripped them from his face. He didn’t let his lips betray his distress at seeing the fresh scratches. A forcible tug brought Jason close enough to wrap his arms around him tightly. He could feel Jason as he shuddered, struggling with the decision of permitting Bruce to embrace him or extricate himself from the intimate hold. He  _loathed_ the way he felt. The man embracing him had heartily fucked women while he writhed in agony, and then had the audacity _to fucking kiss him_? 

Bruce pressed his face against Jason’s unmarred cheek. “I _never_ forgot you, Jason.” He groused out angrily, forcing down the anguish that threatened to envelop him. “I thought about you _every_ damn day. I constantly looked for you. I didn’t find a new Robin immediately and even when I did, I kept calling him _your_ name. I didn’t ever stop looking for you until Joker sent me the tape that showed him killing you.”

Jason’s head snapped up as he screamed into his face. “ _Why are you_ _lying to me_?” A fist connected with his lower jaw, whipping his head to the side as pain exploded. His grip on Jason didn’t loosen as Jason settled his hands on his arms, desperately trying to pry them away.

" _Again!_ " Joker squealed. " _Again_ , my Robin!"

“I almost fucking believed you, but Joker showed me _everything_! He _showed_ me your new victim.”

“Why would I lie to you about this, Jason?” Bruce’s voice nearly shouted. “To beg your forgiveness? To lessen my guilt? I _failed_ you! I know this! And I’m determined _not_ to make the same mistake.”

He forced himself to inhale a few calming breaths. “The first step to do this would be to be honest with you. And I’m telling you I thought you were dead. That’s when I stopped looking. I can show you what Joker sent me when we get back to the Manor. I’m just asking for something right now that I know that I don’t deserve. Trust me, Jason.”

Jason’s hands coasted along his armor, forearms bracing against his shoulders. His look on Bruce did not waver as he muttered, “How many?” _Have you fucked_ he didn’t finish. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to get it out.

Bruce’s jaw tensed as he held Jason’s eyes. “All of them.” The younger man looked away, letting out a shaky exhale. “Jason—”

“I don’t want to hear any excuses.” It was stated coldly.

“It’s not an excuse. I wouldn’t insult you in that way. It’s an explanation of why I performed those actions.” He paused, watching Jason bite his lower lip. A frigid wind blew, Bruce’s cape billowing behind him as Jason shivered. Keeping an arm firmly about Jason, he brought his cape around the younger man’s body to shield him.

“You were everything that I needed, Jason. A companion who understood me. A lover who I could confide.  The closest partner that I’ve ever had. Losing that…losing you…broke me. I don’t remember the months after I thought you were dead. I know they were filled with alcohol and sex. Batman didn’t show up at all during that time. I was done. If it wasn’t for Alfred, I wouldn’t have come back.”

“Oh, Bats.” Joker lamented mockingly with a frown, mincing about the two with hands clasping his heart. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that what I did to Jason wasn’t enough to drive you _batty_. If I had just done a little more.” He sighed, then stilled, an evil gleam spreading as he opened his arms wide. “What am I talking about? You’re already there. And you’ll be _all_ mine when the night’s over.” His fingertips pressed against his chest. “My first act as Batman will be taking that boy of yours and doing _wonders_ to him with _your_ body.” A psychotic cackle erupted from him once more.

An eye of Bruce’s twitched.

Gradually, the forearms that were braced against his shoulders slid around his neck. When he spoke, Jason’s voice was quiet and defeated. “I loved you, Bruce. You were the only one that I loved. Why? No matter what I did, you were always there to help me. Even when you disapproved. Being with you made up for the hell that was my life before. Who knew that an angry street-kid would catch the attention of a billionaire? No one ever cared before. It’s what made you special to me. Especially when you would shun those models just to fuck me senseless. It’s all I thought about when Joker had me. How you always showed up no matter where I was. The World’s Greatest Detective wouldn’t be stumped. It was a matter of time."

His tone became cold and furious. "And when you didn’t? When Joker showed me the new Robin? When I got out and heard about the exploits of _Bruce Wayne_ while I was being persecuted? I hated you. I mean, I hated you when I realized that you weren’t coming to save me. But when I heard that you’ve taken other people to your bed—our bed—it was the first time I’ve wanted to kill you.

“I still do.” He let out a miserable laugh, hands encapsulating Bruce's neck. “I want to kill you. So badly. And I don’t know if that will ever go away or if I’ll ever be able to forgive you.” Jason gave into a few tempting squeezes.

“We can try, Jason.” Bruce whispered, compelling his body to remain lax as Jason continued to clutch his throat. He kept his voice even. “I’m sorry for everything.” Woeful blue eyes flicked up to Bruce’s own. “I’m sorry for not being there for you. For not getting to you in time. I’m sorry for what you had to endure. I’m sorry for those women that I slept with while it happened. I’m sorry—”

“Saying it too much makes it lose its appeal, old man.”

A small quirk of his lips was the response before Bruce placed them over Jason. The touch of Bruce’s soft lips nearly made him whimper. He shouldn’t be doing this. Not with _him._ Bruce hadn’t earned the right to kiss him before or again.

His negative emotions dwindled as gentle licks asked for permission to invade him. Jason thought about denying it, wanting to pull away and gather himself before he made another brash mistake. But hearing Bruce whisper his name made his decision for him.

His lips separated, a faint moan escaping before Bruce shoved into his mouth, their tongues tentatively brushing. Warmth coiled through him as he rubbed against Bruce, fingers caressing his soft dark hair, rubbing against him in a vain attempt to get closer. This shouldn’t be happening. It was as much a blunder as tolerating him to do the same in the mall.

But it felt so _good_ to do this again. The rough stubble scratched him sensuously.  His arctic eyes lit up in a familiar desire that jolted his cock to life. A gloved hand expertly teased him as it moved down to cup a cheek of his ass. Bruce wanted him back. _Batman_ wanted to fuck his Robin. That stirred an emotion that he had thought too deeply buried to ever be resurfaced though it had always been apparent: love that was tepid, but could be fueled to become fiery.

Even after the brutal beatings, the instilled contempt, the lives snuffed out to become the Arkham Knight, his rage and animosity were temporarily quenched as Bruce ardently sought out his tongue. It was as he remembered. He could taste a hint of Mulligatawny soup on his breath and knew that Bruce could taste his vodka.

His hands drifted along the seams of Bruce’s armor, kneading where he knew Bruce would feel direct contact. A stinging hiss made him freeze and break their kiss. He caught the flash of discomfort in Bruce’s eyes before it dulled into lust again. It didn’t take long for him to realize that the place he had grazed was where had shot him at point blank range.

He didn’t have long to dwell on it as Bruce had moved to capture his swollen lips again. The gentle touches became more feverish as they battled for control, breathing through their noses so they wouldn’t have to break apart. It was when he felt Bruce subtly oblige Jason to dominate their clashing tongues that he drew apart.

“Don’t patronize me.” He scowled, disentangling himself from Bruce and heading to the Batmobile.

Bruce mentally noted that he shouldn’t try to coddle Jason and to rely on purely loving caresses before contacting Alfred Pennyworth, his oldest confidante soon depicted via a hologram. He shifted his body slightly to keep Jason in his sights.

“Alfred, I’ve found Jason.”

“Excuse me, sir. I must have misheard you. I thought that you stated that you’ve found Master Todd.”

“You heard right.”

“My God, is he alright?”

Bruce looked over at the troubled man, eyes misted over and varying with multiple emotions. “Given time, I think he will be.”

A quiet huff came from Jason, crossing his ankles together as well as his arms.

“Insanity like ours isn’t cured with time, Brucie.” Joker admonished with a pout, peering over the hologram to stare at Alfred. “You should know. You think throwing me into Arkham Asylum helped to reform me? No. All it did was help me reform my dear Harley." He shrugged, straightening. "But who wouldn’t want to be crazy? It’s so freeing from any warped codes that people bind themselves by.”

“Do you think that you could—?”

“Already working on them, Master Bruce.” Alfred interrupted. “Tell Master Todd that his chili dogs will be ready for him when he arrives.”

“ _We_ arrive.” Bruce corrected. “I need to find out where Gordon headed. His demeanor before was vastly different from what I just encountered. I placed a tracker on his car when I got here.”

“Understood, sir. Should I set up Master Todd’s suite of rooms?”

A quick glance over at Jason. “He’ll be recuperating in mine.”

“Very good, sir. Do tell Master Todd that it is a joy to hear that he is well.”

“Depends on your definition of it.” Jason muttered as Bruce cut communications.

“Your alive.” was all Bruce said as he made his way towards him. He grasped his wrist before Jason could jump into the second seat.

The younger man looked at Bruce then at the car. “Are you serious?” His annoyance edged into anger. “You don’t trust me to sit behind you.”

“I’d prefer if you sit with me, Jason.” When Jason still didn’t move, he persisted. “I’m still getting used to the fact that you aren’t a manifestation of my guilt.”

He rolled his eyes as Bruce got into the driver’s seat. “And _I’m_ supposed to be the one with the problems.”

“I know, right?!” Joker taunted, prancing around the car as Jason settled against Bruce. “While you do have your fair share of screws loose, my dear boy, Bats is nuttier than a fruitcake. Funny, seeing as he _is_ one.”

Jason nudged his back against Bruce’s torso as the hood of the car slid over them. This was...different. They’d never done this before.  It didn’t escape his notice that the closer he was to Bruce, the calmer he felt. Sitting behind him would have caused him to dwell on all that’s happened and he would be in a foul mood once they reached the Manor. Now, all he could think of the cock he brushed against anytime he decided to shift.

“You going to drive?” Jason muttered, lowering his head so Bruce couldn't see his burning face that showed his arousal.

Joker rolled atop the hood of the Batmobile and stood. Shimmying, he cried. “I think I should sing to you again, Bats. You know, the song where your parents are dead and I can’t stop laughing.” He let out a deranged one. “Since _both_ of your parents are dead, it should be double the fun! _What else can I do_?”

“I thought you might want to.” Bruce actively disregarded the crooning loon.

“To give me some aspect of control that I’ve lost over my life?” He leaned back, resting his head against Bruce as he whispered. “You know that I could drive us into the middle of an ambush. Or off a bridge. Or into a building at high speeds. I could detonate my grenades. Communicate our position to Scarecrow. I could _kill_ us and it would be the end. Just what I want.”

“I trust you. And I know that's not what you want.”

“You’re a fool, old man.” Jason turned to look out the window, ignoring how the words suffused warmly throughout him.

“Jason—”

“Just drive the fucking car, Bruce.”

He closed his eyes as he felt arms come around him to grab the steering wheel. It was why he didn’t want to drive the Batmobile. Whenever Bruce held him, an impenetrable net of security fell over him. But he didn’t want to admit it to _him_. 

As Bruce shifted into gear and pressed on the gas, Joker plunged over the windshield. Gotham sped by in a blur of lights as they headed to the lone mansion on the hill. The momentum drove him further into that armor-clad body and the cock pressing against the crease of his ass, causing him to grasp onto Bruce’s right leg. When he heard a tense inhale from behind him, he draped his left arm over Bruce’s own.

“How are you still moving as well when I shot you?” The silence in the car was deafening to him. It would lead him down the path of righteous indignation if he ruminated on why the fuck he was snuggling against Bruce Wayne. He didn’t realize that he was testing Bruce before he responded.

“The suit compresses around the entry wound and staunches bleeding.” Bruce told him that he had faith in him. He didn’t expect Bruce to entrust secrets to him that he could use to manipulate him later if he chose.

“I’m not apologizing.” He asserted curtly. “And don’t give me any selfless diatribe about understanding _why_ I’m not.”

The words were exhaled into his ear with a soft laugh. “I missed you, Jason.” Jason pointedly discounted the fact that his grip on Bruce had tightened and his heart raced with longing.

* * *

 The Batmobile’s engine shut off as the top slid back. Jason begrudgingly left Bruce’s side to jump out of the car.

“Master Todd, thank goodness.” Alfred came forward, setting down a tray with chili dogs and orange soda near the Batcomputer. The worry that seemed permanently etched on his face whenever Jason was concerned disappeared. Arms were thrown around Jason as Alfred embraced him. “I don’t know what to say. We thought—”

“Later, Alfred.” Bruce murmured, gracefully sliding out and heading towards the Batcomputer. Jason let his arms remain stiffly at his side. Alfred didn’t know what he’d done. Would he be holding him if he had?

“Oh yes. Of course, sirs.” Alfred composed himself. “Please let me know if there is anything else that will be needed.”

“Thanks, Alfred. Ensure that we are not disturbed.”

 Jason flashed a strained smile to the older gentleman before he nodded, retreating upstairs.

Jason tread over to the Batcomputer, idly watching as Bruce glossed over the layout of Gotham and any new updates. Picking up a chili dog, he savored the first taste before popping open a can.

“There’s a city that needs saving, rigged with bombs, Dragons, and multiple watchtowers. Not to mention ground vehicles and armed mobile units.” Half of the can was gone in a few sips and he set it down.

“I’m locating all of them and programming them into the Batmobile’s navigational system with the exception of the armed militia men.” He spoke without turning to Jason. “I’m also looking over Gordon’s vehicle as he drives though Gotham. This has to be done before I head back out.”

Jason finished his chili dog and picked up another, inching closer to Bruce as he bit into it ravenously. Lightly touching the back of his helm, he watched fascinated by as it clicked and whirred. He became more intrigued as it removed and revealed the face that his beloved and condemned man. “And that would be?”

“After I show you.”

The screen blanked and brought up a grainy image showing a bloodied battered Jason tied to a chair. It took several tries for Jason to swallow the piece that he had in his mouth, trying to actively squash the writhing fear growing within him.

_I’m not there anymore..._ He had to remind himself. Swiping his tongue across his lips, due to nervousness rather than ridding himself of any stray residue, he watched Bruce’s finger hover over the keyboard.  He then noticed that Bruce awaited him a response from him.

Jason bypassed his assuring gaze to contemplate the screen. He knew what it was, but he still pressed. His half-finished chili dog was forgotten. He wouldn’t want to eat during this anyway. “Let’s see it, liar.”

Batman pressed the button as Joker materialized in the chair, holding a bag of popcorn with his legs dangling over an arm. “I _love_ movies.” He chuckled. “Especially ones that I star in to maim those you care for. Too bad I didn’t make one of Oracle. Popcorn?” He shook the bag at Bruce before shrugging, lifting his legs to rest on the desk and crossing them at the ankles. “You shouldn’t be rude, Bats. Hell is a nice place. You get _popcorn_! Ah well. You’ll find out when you head there.”

The video began to play and a chilling sensation swept through Jason as he heard the epitome of fear speak. “Have you got something to tell the nice man, Jason?”

He tore his eyes away to settle on Bruce, knowing what was coming. He hadn’t thought of it much back then due to the grisly ordeal he underwent. He had expected to die, another one of Joker’s unhinged broken toys that he no longer gave him any amusement. Jason hadn’t thought of him sending Bruce the video—Joker had confessed that he enjoyed beating people to death while taping.

“My name…is Jason Todd.”

_So weak._  He thought, self-revulsion rising once more. Jason hadn’t been as strong as he had thought. True, he had been consistently oppressed, but he had thought he was tenacious enough not to succumb. Would Bruce weather Joker’s demented machinations? 

Of course he would. Bruce would have been able to escape readily. He was able to rein in his temper and do something productive with it. Jason had allowed his to be used against him. The only leverage Joker would have over Bruce is trying to hurt someone close to him. But even Bruce would power through and not risk killing anyone.

Jason could see the agony in his eyes as Bruce experienced the video again. He chose to focus on the man he once called lover instead of the blood-curdling clown on screen. It was then that a question fluttered into this thoughts. Anger simmered beneath his calm countenance. His eyes narrowed at Bruce dangerously.

 “Oh! Here comes my favorite part!” Joker stood up, eyes rapt upon the screen.

Bruce knew the inevitable conclusion of the video and angled his head away from it. “No!” He heard the scream before he felt Jason’s hand clamp over his lower face, twisting his head back to the prerecording. “You deserve to see what happened to me! What you caused!”  His eyes broadened partially as Jason exerted pressure. His chili dog exploded in a runny mess that streamed down his hand and pant legs, pieces flying in multiple directions. “Look at the _fucking_ screen, Bruce!”

His gaze went to the screen at the same time that Joker had pulled his pistol and shot Jason at close range. Joker then picked up the camera to show Jason’s corpse. Sweating profusely while his respirations were heavy and fast, Bruce slid into his seat. It had been awhile since he had seen Jason’s death. It was filed away after Alfred had threatened to make Leslie Thompkins aware of his situation.  To see it again renewed his concealed feelings: despair, outrage, contempt, and a gaping gnawing empty feeling he recognized as loss.

Jason’s hand left him as he straddled Bruce, intent on not letting him escape. Fuck Gotham for the time being. Scarecrow would get what’s coming to him, but he _needed_ this. Voice cracking, he asked, “This is…was…classic Joker.  A master manipulator who wouldn’t mind faking a snuff film. Why didn’t you think of that?”

“Guess he’s smarter than he looks. Though not smart enough to keep from coming after me.” Joker chewed his popcorn thoughtfully, leaning against the chair. “Honestly, why didn’t you think of that Bats? It’s something that you’d usually catch on. I mean…you know me so _intimately_.”

Bruce’s eyes shuttered. In retrospect, it was _exactly_ something that Joker would do. But it had been his first personal loss that had been caused _by him_. His logical cognitive functions were eroded by emotional stimuli. Put plainly, he hadn’t been in the right state of mind to recognize a possible and likely avenue Joker would have taken.

He placed his hands on Jason’s hips to steady him, pulling him down so he rested on him. “Seeing that, Jason….I couldn’t think of anything but not seeing you again. I couldn’t find anything in it after reviewing that looked fabricated or tampered. I tried.”

“It’s because it wasn’t.” He seethed, furious eyes boring into Bruce’s repentant ones. “What you saw _happened._ It’s just that I wore armor underneath.”

“I can guess that now.” His tone was reserved.

“What I can’t guess is why you didn’t kill him until Arkham City? Why did you _wait_ so long after my death, huh?”

“I wanted to kill him the next time I saw him and I thought about chasing him down to kill him after seeing your death, but it would be _exactly_ what he wanted. He would have made me break.”

“You _still_ broke!” Jason screamed, his temper close to detonating.   

“I didn’t purposely kill him!” Bruce dissented, calm in the face of a brewing storm. “I ended up dropping the cure after he stabbed me.”

“The Killing Joke.” Joker laughed and then a saddened expression crossed his face. “I had thought I had finally broken you, Batsy. We’ve been playing this dance for years.  But Arkham City was meant to be a real doozy of a Catch 22. You give me the cure and I continue my delightful killing spree. You don’t give me the cure and you finally become what I know you are deep down: a murderer.  Just like me. You’d still be infected by my blood either way. But I ended up killing myself.” He swung his head from side to side, laughing maniacally. “Guess the joke was on me.  _That's_ pretty funny.”

 “So I guess I’m not worth killing over, huh?”

“You don’t understand, Jason.” His restrained voice alerted the younger man.

“About?” He disputed, ensnaring Bruce by place his hands on either side of his head as he peered down at him.

His eyes never wavered. “If I start killing, I’ll never stop.” Jason stared at him incredulously as he progressed. “It only starts with a single justification, Jason. A rational reason that I accept which will put my mind at ease so I can take a life.  After a few, any reason will do.”

He bristled. “You’re nothing like _him_. He killed with no provocation.”

“And I would do the same with little if I started. He and I were different sides of the same coin: opposites in most ways but bound together. We shared few similarities.”

“You’re not a psychopath. You weren’t ever obsessed with him—”

“But we’re both victims of the society that we were raised in. We simply led different paths. He knew me well enough to predict my moves, even though I usually ended up defeating him. We also understood how fragile Gotham truly is. What we wanted to do about it again varied.”

“I’ve done it.” Jason whispered.  He sought out Bruce’s eyes as he spoke the next words. “And I’m not a serial killer.” He didn’t know if he was looking for confirmation or rejection, but he received neither.

“I’m not you, Jason.” A flicker of fury became apparent as he glowered at Bruce only for it to abate. As further words fell forth, Bruce’s lips brushed against Jason. “I would be. And that's why I focus so much on trying _not_ to kill. Batman is fallible. He makes mistakes like any other. He had an indefinable lapse of judgment when he believed Joker had killed the man that he loved more than himself. Because of that, he may not ever be forgiven. ”

Jason could feel his cheeks begin to flame. Pursing his lips, he mulled over what he wanted to say. "I wouldn't be so sure about that." Nothing in Bruce's face betrayed what he felt, but he could see the quick movements of his eyes surveying him. "The man that he loves needs quite a few promises from him, one being that he needs to be shown how much he's loved. Considering that he didn't get much of it with Joker."

"I happen to know a way to make up for Joker's gross incompetence." The outskirts of his mouth barely turned up.

"Good. Because he doesn't want to wait." 

Jason pulled off his gloves with his teeth as Bruce discarded his own. Knowing exactly where to unclasp his belt in order not to be electrocuted, he pulled it off, letting it slip from his grasp to pull on the floor.

“You don’t want to pull the pin.” He sneered, leaning over Bruce as he worked to take off his undid his harness that held his pistols and grenades. Their electric blues never left each other while Bruce carefully slid it off of him, setting on the desk.

“Militarized suit.” His hands ran along Bruce, annoyed at the fact that there was too much armor between them. He settled for grazing their developing hard-ons.

“Made to mimic my nemesis.” The words were whispered into Bruce’s ear. He then began to tease at the small piece of flesh available on Bruce’s neck.

Jason worked on freeing Bruce’s cock from the confines of his suit. Stroking the hot flesh as he pulled it over his suit led to Bruce wrestled with being quiet. He relished being able to take hold of Bruce again, to feel his cock swelling in his hand because of _him_. It’s how it was supposed to be.

Hands had reappeared on him, trying to unzip him. He disentangled himself swiftly, enjoying the whirling emotions apparent on his face as well as the steely scowl. Revealing his amusement, Jason watched Bruce begin to put himself away. He slowly tugged the zipper down, rolling his body subtly.

Jason chuckled derisively. Bruce had stilled, bewitched with his movements. He heard his breath hitch as his suit revealed his well-defined chest. Sauntering over to him, he brought a foot down on a leg harder than necessary. “I can’t be wearing my boots if I want to get out of this suit.” His eyes were mocking.

Bruce’s look revealed deadly retribution, but he wanted what Jason did just as badly. His cock strained within his briefs as he Bruce slowly licked along the boot, unfastening it with a hand as he did. His other massaged Jason’s straining cock through his suit, the young man pushing against him lewdly.

Throwing the boot to the side, Jason fiercely brought down his other, unable to control his loud exhales.  Bruce noticed, not concealing his malicious grin.  Switching hands, he tongued the boot suggestively while caressing his bulge. As he pulled the boot off, he nipped Jason’s cock through his suit.

Jason glared down at the older man who sat back, legs spread with an eye brow scarcely raised. He had almost come undone ogling the man teasing him. But that was the end-game wasn’t it?

Satisfied but not willing to admit it, Jason spread his legs a hips-width apart while holding either edge of his collar. “You’re not going to do the honors? After that display, you’ve earned it.”

He hadn’t expected Bruce to do it, formulating an enticing strip-tease to screw with him. But surprise filled him as Bruce lithely rose, lusty blues entrapping Jason. His hands pushed his suit past his shoulders casually, freeing his arms that immediately sought to touch the fiber mesh of the Batsuit.

His hands never left him as they caressed every inch of him, trailing up his chest and down his back just to slide beneath his briefs. Every single touch singed Jason with pleasure and he told Bruce by biting his chin, tongue lapping at it all the while.

He moaned as Bruce gripped his ass just as hard before the rest of his suit pooled around his feet.  As Bruce fisted his cock while slipping into his seat, Jason seldom had time enough to comprehend what was about to happen. His fingers scrabbled for a hold against metal plates as blessed heat encased his cock.

“ _Fuck Bruce_.” He whimpered, unable to stare at his cock sliding in and out of those awaiting lips.  His tongue swathed from the head to base, leaving no place untouched. Usually, Bruce would leisurely blow him, being attentive and dragging a spine-tingling orgasm from Jason. But he knew that they were in a time crunch. He adjusted by snapping his hips forward, thrusting into that begging mouth. For a man who didn’t mince words, he loved to open up for his cock. An adoring snicker tumbled from him as Bruce reveled in Jason filling his mouth. Yeah, he had missed a lot of things with Bruce. This was on the top of the list.

Bruce knew that this was an unnecessary distraction, but the precum that he lapped hungrily dulled everything but his most basic inhibitions. Thirty minutes was all he wanted.

It would give him time to reminisce on the sweaty taste of Jason’s cock that he missed.

He would be able to cherish Jason’s euphoric state:  full-bodied rosy blush, eyes replete with pleasure, and uncontrolled wanton cries.

Lastly, it would allow Jason to see Bruce’s earnest campaign to have him at his side again…and to never leave.

Incoherent thoughts sifted through Jason’s lust-addled mind when his cock fell from Bruce’s mouth. Immediately stroking himself, he pulled out a drawer, rummaging within it without looking. He was more occupied with beautiful azures that wanted nothing more to treasure him.

“I wish we had more time.” His voice could barely be heard as he extracted a bottle of lube. Pouring some onto his fingers, he tossed the bottle to Bruce while coating his cock. Normally, he’d warm it up with his fingers, but the chilling impression ensured that he would not give himself over to unbridled passion. He was nearly at the brink...

Bruce had applied a generous amount to himself as Jason remounted him. “We’ll have it when this is over.” He muttered, seizing his lips. Snaking an arm around Jason to keep him from escaping, he added more lube to his fingers before tossing the bottle behind him.

Jason widened his legs as far as he could, leaning over Bruce while brutally pushing his face against him. He could feel his entrance puckering, excited for what he hadn’t had for a while.  Digits soaked with cold lube pressed against breached his delicate rosebud slowly as tongues intertwined passionately. Jason grasped both oily cocks in a hand, jerking them as he pushed back onto the invading digit. He relaxed so that Bruce could insert another digit. Time was running out for the both of them and fuck, he _needed_ this.Latching onto strands of raven hair, he dared to reveal what Bruce made him feel. It didn’t surprise him that most were mirrored. He didn’t stop the moans that poured from him. Another finger joined the two and Jason threw his head back sensually crying out, grinding down against Bruce’s callused digits.

“Come on.” Jason gasped out, his look lewd and desirous. “I can take it and you don’t have time.” 

Arm slipping around his neck, he steadied himself as Bruce brought his cock to his hole. His eyes closed while Bruce pushed against it, head spreading the rim to be engulfed by it. Shit, he needed this like an addict needed his fix or how flames needed oxygen in order to rage. It satiated a dark part within his heart: quenching its thirst but simultaneously hungering it more.  Pressing his forehead against him, he took hold of Bruce’s divine girth to seat himself flush against him.

Bruce wasn’t as sprightly as before: he could cum embarrassingly quick if he didn’t pace himself. But time was against him, he knew, as he began to drive unrepentantly into Jason. He gripped Jason’s waist firmly, unwilling to miss him riding his cock arduously.  Or the fact that he stroked his cock at the pace Bruce had set.

Jason met each of Bruce’s thrusts with loud slaps. His lover had set a brutal speed that Jason had little trouble matching. He felt delightfully filled, the cock in him sliding against every desirous hot-spot as only Bruce’s cock could do. When he clenched his ass as Bruce continued to piston him, he was awarded with a sight that no one else would be treated.

Bruce’s head lolled against the headrest, his lips marginally separated as his breaths came fast. Normally pale skin was shaded a beautiful flush. Impassioned cobalts confessed to the love that had never dwindled or dissipated for Jason. The hand that drifted between his legs to fondle him aimed to gratify them both. It told Jason all he needed to know.

_No one_ made Bruce lose control like Jason. No one made his cock swell as hard or fast.  No ass is as tight or juicy. No cock is as tasty that gushed cum, leaving the billionaire begging for more. No mouth is as entertaining as Jason’s who deep-throated Bruce better than anyone else.  He also cared for no one as deeply or indulged anyone as much. Not to mention that no one could hurt him as much.

 Jason felt the exact same way as his hands wandered to the older man’s neck. He squeezed gently causing Bruce’s eyes to flicker with longing, a smothered gasp wafting from him.  His lover was close and he knew that he would try to hold himself back until Jason let himself go. But Jason love to break through his restraints. The effect was amazing.

With a devilish smirk, he rolled his sweat-damped body on his length torturously slow forcing Bruce to match him. It pained him since he ached to resume the savage pounding. His hole constricted furiously, as if trying to hurry Bruce’s cock along.  He _hated_ being teased like this, but so did Bruce. Thusly, he compelled himself to persist in driving Bruce crazy.

He recognized the subtle indications that it was occurring. Bruce’s growls were louder. His blue eyes were unfocused. His hold on both Jason’s waist and cock were tighter. Though he dragged out of Jason slowly, each push inside was more blissfully painful and harder than the last.

Jason marveled at the man that had been the source of the worst and best times of his life. No matter what happened with them, he knew that he could never leave his side.

“ _Bruce_.” The silky yearning cries unintentionally escaped from his lips. “ _Bruce.  Bru—aah_!” They became wild screams as Bruce’s rigid control ruptured, pummeling into Jason without abandon.

His fingers pressed around Bruce tighter to steady himself, desperately trying to meet his strokes. It only served to double Bruce’s efforts, his thrashing creating marvelous pain as his raw hole burned with friction. As Bruce’s cock buried inside him a final time, Jason admired his quiet orgasm as he closed his eyes, his lover’s spunk shooting deep inside him while his cock twitched as it spent itself. The scene was enough to push him over the edge. 

With an amorous cry, Jason pushed against the hand that rubbed him, cumming in thick streams and splattering cum on them both. Shuddering, Jason collapsed on top of Bruce, his head resting on his shoulder. He didn’t care that he was rubbing the mess he made into the Batsuit and that Bruce’s hand was trapped between them. Tranquility seeped through him and he wanted to dwell in it for as long as he could.

With what little awareness he still held, he loosened his grasp on his neck. Blearily, he caught sight of dark blemishes forming on pale skin. They looked good on him.

Only the rustling of bats in the cave could be heard while both men regained themselves. As Jason’s breathing steadied, he lifted himself to swipe his moist tongue along Bruce’s face to lick up his cum. “Mm. Not bad, old man. Much better than I remember. Must have been all that practice.”

“None of them felt like this, Jason.” He muttered breathless, leaning forward so that Jason could feed himself to him.

Jason could hear and see the candor within the statement. “Maybe. But you have a lot of making up to do.”

“An effort I’ll gladly undertake.” Bruce was now completely composed as if he hadn’t been shoving himself into him passionately.

“You didn’t mark me.” The pleasant sensation now ebbed to a dull ache that Jason knew he would feel in the morning.

Bruce paused and Jason observed that he contended with himself to voice his thoughts. He did so as his tongue cleaned Jason’s cum from his fingers. “You’re not fragile, Jason. But I didn’t want to cause any distress if anything I did brought back your time in Joker’s hands.”

He sharply inhaled, thumbs rubbing circles on Bruce’s neck. “It’s _you_ touching me. So I can see that you’re not _him_ , no matter what you do. But…don’t try fucking me from behind, in case.”

“Anything you want.”

His heart thumped at the declaration. Affectionately, he clamped his muscles around the semi-hard cock inside of him. He hid his smile by burying his face in Bruce’s neck as the older man groaned.  “I also think that your touches will eventually erase what he did to me. So next time, make me yours. And take no one else.”

“That should go without saying.”

“No one else.” His fingers contracted in warning. “Promise me.”

A huff flitted by his ear which passed for a chuckle from Batman. “Only you, Jason. I promise.”

The Batcomputer beeped, notifying Bruce that he had a call. Jason frowning as he knew that his time with Bruce neared a close.

“Answer.” After a few moments, Batman greeted. “Commissioner Gordon.”

Sighing softly, Jason started to separate himself when he felt light touches through his hair. Blushing, he curled his arms around his neck, content to breathe in his lover’s scent.

“Batman. I know where Scarecrow is hiding.”

Bruce’s somber eyes flicked towards the map of Gotham and the red blinking tracker. He hadn't been paying attention to Gordon's whereabouts before he stopped. He ran his fingers through damp locks in an act of placating Jason as a smile threatened to overtake him. He hadn’t expected for what had happened to occur. But Jason was the only individual who could distract him in this way, even when a city needed saving. And though he would never confess it to anyone but his lover, Jason was exactly what he had needed to face Scarecrow.

“Your location’s been relayed. I’ll meet you there. Don’t confront Scarecrow without me.”

Gotham Police was under his wing. He controlled the streets and helped put thugs away. His money was in every redevelopment project that Gotham currently undertook. But there was one person he _could_ _not_ dominate no matter how fiercely he tried.

“Done.”

“End call.”

That individual looked up at him now, eyes shadowed with similar emotions that he had first seen when they met earlier. But some were missing, others taking their place. Jason didn’t allow him enough time to read him. The sides of his lips were down-turned as he whispered, “You better come back.”

“I will. I deal with Scarecrow and then I’ll be back.”

“I fucking swear Bruce if you leave me alone again—”

 “Never again.” He silenced Jason with a chaste kiss.

* * *

  _ **Months a**_ ** _fter the Initiation of The Knightfall Protocol…._**

The ocean breeze gently blew across his face. It cooled his heated naked body as his toes curled in pleasure. Through dimmed eyes, he could make out a comforting ashen sky with morning light barely piercing the clouds. A wonderful soreness encompassed him and he didn’t need a mirror to view the bruises and love marks left after last night’s escapade. He bit his lower lip, remembering. Bruce wasn’t silent then.

He dug his nails into his pillow while affectionate gasps left him. Jason hated early mornings. He gave anyone a death glare for disturbing him before two in the afternoon. But he could learn to tolerate them, he thought, peering down at the man devouring his cock.

The hands clutching his hips kept him still, more to convey a message than a show of dominance. Fierce blue eyes captured his own. They displayed the want of nothing except to make up for lost time and indulge in all that was Jason.

Over the few months spent on the private island, he had grown to accept the fond looks cast his way and the warm embraces that he never wanted to leave. Waking up to Bruce taking him in mouth had been one of the better days.

Jason loved the feel of Bruce’s tongue gliding along his shaft as he bowed his head. He bit his lower lip. The way he savored his head as lips moved along his length. The long swipes along his slit made him tremble before he bobbed his head again. A hand massaged its way up his inner thigh, taking hold of his cock.

He panted into his pillow as he spilled into the hot mouth without warning, breaking free of Bruce’s hold to thrust furiously. Through his lust, he could vaguely see Bruce matching his eccentric movements. Bruce helped his cock with tight quick jerks, intent on emptying him completely. His throat shifted as he swallowed his cum.

Tired eyes surveyed the older man reluctantly ease off his cock, only to begin licking any stray cum that had escaped. “Morning protein?”

Bruce uttered without breaking his task, admiring the cock that he loved. “It’s better than anything else.”

Jason smirked albeit warmly. “Don’t expect me to do it to you.”

His grin widened as he simply heard Bruce hum, “More for me.”

Okay. Maybe one day soon, he’d return the favor. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happened in mind and I don't regret it. Did Batman take time from saving Gotham to have sex? Yeah, he did. :P It’s why he rejected Selena also after finding all of those riddles: he didn't want to hurt her feelings. And Jason would kill him. :)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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